The Dead Cannot Bleed

At the scene of the raging fire, my husband scooped up his fainting mistress first.

He never heard our six-year-old daughter crying and screaming for help from inside the flames.

My little girl was burned alive.

When her death certificate was issued, he was still at the hospital, tenderly tending to his golden bird.

The very first words out of his mouth when he finally stepped home were, "Janna, tell your daughter to get out here and donate some blood."

I broke down, desperately trying to t